


Aggressive cuddle therapy

by LaBelleIzzy



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: College, Friends taking care of each other, No Romance, No Sex, Other, and bitty is a bit concerned, bros being bros, in which shitty does not eat the pie, just exhausted, procrastinators unite, self-care is hard yo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 03:05:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12925980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelleIzzy/pseuds/LaBelleIzzy
Summary: Sometimes Shitty does NOT know when to stop.





	Aggressive cuddle therapy

B. Shitty Knight is holed up in the kitchen at the Haus, his chair leaned back against the kitchen wall, trying to finish the second to last paper for his senior year. Bitty’s stress baking again and procrastinating on a paper or a project, Shitty doesn’t actually know which class Bits is avoiding. 

Shitty’s at the stage of banging his head against the table after many hours of wrangling with the text and muttering to himself. He’s dried out seven or eight highlighters in the last couple of days, partly because he throws them across the room when he’s frustrated and then he never remembers to find them and cap them off to put them away. 

Bitty’s been watching this production for two or three hours now and is kind of worried about his friend. Shitty’s hair is standing out from his scalp because he keeps grabbing it with both hands and pulling while staring at the ceiling and muttering obscure latin sounding things, and he actually refused a slice of pie just now, distractedly waving at Bitty and muttering, no time for nice things or I don’t deserve nice things or something equally ridiculous and Bitty has had enough.

“Shitty? Hey, Shitty…”  
  
Bitty bends down, puts his face low down next to the table to insert his gaze under Shitty’s increasingly glazed focus on his textbooks. Waves his hand gently in Shitty’s peripheral vision and waits till Shitty actually refocuses his eyes.

“Oh, hey Bitty, brah, I’m sorry, d’ya need the table for something? I can get the hell outta here and go study in my room or something...?”

“MISTER KNIGHT.”

“Whoa, am I in trouble now? You're Mister Lastnaming me here and you’re not being the least bit playful, what the hell did I do NOW, dammit?”

“Mister Knight, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to take a page from your playbook here. YOU actually TURNED DOWN PIE. A fresh slice of delicious pie, and you said NO which is so unlike you that I’m forced to take drastic measures to get you to relax a minute here.” 

“Uh, uh-oh Bits, what, like what are we talking about?”  
He leans back in his chair, and it looks to Bitty like the circles under his eyes have been packing their bags for a week.

Bitty firms up his mouth and ducks his chin at Shitty.  
  
“Aggressive...cuddling.” Bitty wrestles his chair enough away from the table so that he can fit in between Shitty’s chair and the table.  
  
“You look AWFUL. C’mere, BRAH!” 

It’s maybe the worst attempt at Shitty’s Boston accent Shitty’s ever heard. Madison, Georgia plus Boston, Massachusetts should be hilarious or grating, but Shitty’s suddenly realized how insanely tired and loopy he is, when he can’t even find it funny. It’s just a comfort, and a relief, when Bitty leans in to gather up Shitty’s torso and shoulders and tip Shitty’s head onto his chest. 

Shitty gives up any plans of protesting. He closes his eyes and leans into the crumbly flour dusted apron of one Eric Richard Bittle. He wraps his arms around Bitty’s waist, and exhales gustily.   
  
Bitty holds him tightly, rocking just a little bit as he slumps incrementally more and lets his speedy lil left winger’s sturdy frame hold him up for a few moments.

It’s oddly comfortable, and comforting. Bitty always smells like spices and is frequently dusted with flour so Shitty’s used to it, it feels natural. They lean on each other a lot on the daily. They’re comfortable huggy bros, but Shitty would say that tonight is something different and good. 

There’s a lot of love in this kitchen tonight. A lot of love, and a lot of procrastination, and a lot of exhaustion. Shitty can smell the ketones in his own sweat tonight and knows he hasn’t been eating right, drinking water, or getting enough sleep, for way too long.  
  
He’s so TIRED.

He must have said that out loud, because in the dim floury tasting place he currently inhabits, he hears Bitty say above him, “Shitty, hun, it’ll wait. You need to sleep, it’s near two in the morning. Shit. Good Lord, *I* need to sleep! I’ve been puttin’ off my things all night!” 

Shitty rolls his forehead left and right on Bitty’s chest before gathering enough strength to pull his heavy head back and sit back up. At this point he can barely keep his eyes open. All his manic energy has drained away and everything he’s been trying to keep at bay slams down on top of him, a tidalwave of tired.  
  
“Bits. Bitty, thank you. You noble and adorable lil fucker… although, we got to work on your Boston accent! But you’re right. I need a Gatorade and a protein bar and to get at least six solid in the sack before I tackle this again. Would you kindly do me the honors, as you’re still vertical?”

Bitty pulls a red Gatorade out of the fridge and one of the protein bars from the Costco box in the pantry, hands them over, and then helps Shitty pull himself out of the rickety old kitchen chair. They take the stairs, arm around waist and arm around shoulders, and Shitty bumps Bitty’s shoulder with the bottle as they get to the top and their respective rooms.

“Eric Richard you are a prince among men and I owe you one.” He plants a messy kiss on top of Bitty’s head and squishes Bitty up in a bro-y side hug before a giant yawn takes over his face.

Bitty’s smiling and a little flushed, maybe slightly loopy because when Shitty comes back to himself after the yawn, Bitty sing-songs, “Night-night, Knight!”

Shitty’s groaning. “How long have you been waiting to use that one, eh, lil brah?”

“Oh, just half of forever. Get some sleep, Shitty, I’ll see you MUCH LATER IN THE MORNING.”  
  
Bitty grins wider, a little manic, and shoots Shitty's style of finger guns. “You can make the coffee if you’re up before me.”

“Hell maybe I’ll just take you to brunch once we’re both awake. UGH!! Okay, good night Bitty, sleep tight,” he says, stumbling with exhaustion towards his own door. He barely notices Bitty untying his apron with one hand and yawning while he opens his own door with the other. Shitty staggers forward, faceplants into his duvet, and knows no more till the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the second panel in the comic titled Providence Falconers.  
> http://checkpleasecomic.com/comic/02-05-01
> 
> Comments are love. <3  
>   
> thank you Ngozi for creating this comic, which you can find and read at the above url or on Tumblr at omgcheckplease.tumblr.com !
> 
> and you're welcome to come find me on tumblr and nerd out about these adorable kids. =)  
> come find my main blog at labelleizzy on tumblr and Dreamwidth, or my omgcp sideblog at makeshittyknightproud: I reblog fanart, fanfic, and meta.


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